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Darkseeker
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please don't post if your name is not in the title! |
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Darkseeker
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Name Kieran Anatole Lagorio Age 30 Gender Male - he/him Sexuality Gay Occupation Hitman Appearance Kieran is an exceptionally attractive young man. If he'd told you about his occupation, you'd probably laugh in his face; he looks far too young and elegant for his line of work. He stands at about 5'9 - it's a sensitive subject for him - with a deceptively slender, delicate frame. Despite what his appearance suggests, he's extremely muscular and lean beneath his clothing. He's quite particular about his exercise and training, preferring that his targets underestimate his strength and stamina. Kieran's features are rather androgynous. His face is thin and angular, but he still maintains an air of youthfulness in his appearance. His nose is small and straight, and he has full, pink lips. He has a few lines creasing his forehead, which are really the only indications of his age and lifestyle. His eyes are a bright sepia color, framed by long, feminine lashes and angular brows. Kieran changes his hair whenever his work demands - which is frequently. Currently, it is its natural dirty blond and reaches just above his shoulders. He typically wears it down, only tying it back when it interferes with his concentration by blowing into his face. Kieran has access to a variety of clothing and styles for his job. When he isn't working, he prefers to wear dark, simple attire - jeans, sweaters, and crewnecks, for the most part. He has a lobe piercing in his right ear and often insists on wearing jewelry in it while on the job. Personality Kieran is not an extremely extroverted person. When it comes to work, he prefers to keep to himself and despises the idea of sharing a job with any of his 'coworkers'. He hates having to communicate with his employers and prefers to get a job done and report back afterwards rather than providing updates. Kieran was never extensively trained with firearms, just with knives, so he's required to get dangerously close to someone in order to incapacitate them. His preferred method of taking out his marks is flirting with them and getting them away from others before killing them. He detests doing this - not out of any moral objection, but because he's somewhat introverted and hates talking to strangers - but he's found it's the most efficient method for him. He puts on a very convincing performance for his marks and is alarmingly good at earning their trust quickly. In spite of his patience when dealing with his targets, Kieran has a reputation among his employers for being tempermental. He deals very poorly with failure and will spend days fuming if something pisses him off enough. He's ruined more than a few assignments by being so hot-headed, but he's learned to rein in his temper a bit over the years. Likes · Rain and thunderstorms · Nighttime · Wine · Sleeping through the night · Plants · Cats Dislikes · Early mornings · Deep water · His job · Guns - the sound, smell, all of it · Any bodily fluids other than blood · The cold Strengths · Deceptive strength and stamina · Prowess with knives · Hand-to-hand combat · Charismatic Weaknesses · Inexperienced with guns and other ranged weapons · Paranoia · Impulsivity · Short-tempered · Antisocial Kin Donovan Lagorio - father. Deceased. Ophelia Lagorio - mother. Deceased. Winnie Lagorio - younger sister. Deceased. Gael Lagorio - younger brother. Deceased. |
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Forum Moderator
Darkseeker
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[c]157083 . He'll get more polished art later, I'm just shit with descriptions LOL
Name
Something long and unpronounceable, see 'called'.
Called
Daseike M.
[Dai - s - seek]
Daseike is a shortened translation from his native language, he's not overly fond of it but it's what most refer to him by - you'll see a look of exasperation whenever someone calls his name.
The 'M' doesn't stand for anything, it's just a letter he liked and uses it in place of a last name, as apparently humans have those.
Age
33
Gender
Cismale - He/Him
Occupation
Researcher and professor
Appearance
Perhaps it's the long hours or maybe it's a corporal form struggling to hide the fact it's not human at all, Daseike's face holds a distinct weathering to it. Stark creases form around his eyes and brows, only enhanced by his near-constant furrowed brow. His facial structure is narrow and angular, accented by high cheekbones and framed by dark, choppy hair that fades to a greyish colour at the ends. Featuring a rather usual styling, his hair reaches mid way down his back, with two far longer, white strands forming behind his ears and extending way down towards his thighs. When working or out, he keeps his hair tied up in a bun or pony-tail, whichever he tends to fancy, though the longer strands stay free and usually cascade down over his shoulders and chest.
He boasts the stereotypical academic build, on the slighter side for sure. Delicate features, slender wrists and hands, a few bracelets here and there. Daseike is far from short, though, standing at a respectable 6'1", often appearing taller as he's partial to boots with a bit of a heel. His day to day outfit tends to vary but he usually keeps to office-casual and formal wear, shirts, turtlenecks, suits, all are a possibility. Classically, he's seen in a beige wide-legged trousers and a knit turtleneck, usually with the sleeves rolled up and a necklace or two.
He's not free from piercings either, with several studs in each ear and a bridge piercing, fitted with a metal plate shaped around his nose. Adorning his fingers are several silver rings, all share the same braided design. Daseike's appearance is both striking and unusual, not at all unsurprising if you're aware of his angelic nature. He puts the bare minimum effort into fitting in as a human - with pale grey eyes and white eyelashes that he may cover up with glasses if he's going to be somewhere particularly busy.
Yes, this appearance is a disguise, in actuality he has a far more feathery and less humanoid appearance, though, suppose that can be discovered later. Something that does make a frequent appearance in private are his wings - wouldn't be much on an angel without them, would he? There's eight in total. Four of which decorate his head, peaking out from his hair and resting either over his eyes or around his neck. The other four are more classic, emerging from his shoulders - they're relatively small in size and have a stark black/white colouring, with the bridge of his wing and tips of his feathers being black and the rest white. ArtWith wings . Without wings [c]157083 Personality
Curt and disdainful is the most efficient way to describe Daseike. He's not one for small talk, human formalities or well... Human anything. He's here for his research and his research alone. It's not that he finds humanity inferior or anything suitably narcissistic, they just don't interest him all that much - his angelic companions get the same, neutral, efficient responses as they do. An incredibly smart man, he's got a keen eye for detail and an even keener one for the unknown. A bit of a workaholic, he's never not in his labs or one of his classes.
Incredibly passionate to the point of being eccentric, Daseike's research is the way to his heart and if you happen to ask him about it, you'll soon be whisked away to a lab or a classroom as he enthusiastically walks you through his discoveries and anything in progress. He's well spoken, but incredibly animated, tending to talk with his hands and very exaggerated tone. As long as you stay on the subject of research, supernatural artefacts, or cats, you'll hold his attention for days, and it will be days as he doesn't need the same amount of sleep as a human. He absolutely adores innovation and the modern world's technology is quite possibly the only thing about humanity he finds remotely interesting.
Despite his apparent dislike for socialising, there is one exception: Teaching. Some refer to it as his angelic calling; his personality seems to do a 180 as soon as it comes to sharing his knowledge or teaching others, no matter the species. His sharp and abrasive personality melts away into endless patience and what could almost be described as warmth as soon as it becomes apparent that you don't know the subject matter. Lights seem to burn juuust a little brighter whenever he's teaching.
Likes
Research
Travel
The natural world
Technology
Firearms [He thinks they're a very exciting human invention]
Cats
Dislikes
Rain
Narrow doorways
Traffic
Sweet things
Ink pens
Strengths
Physical strength - Appearances are deceiving, Daseike is incredibly powerful. He has no need for working out or maintaining any kind of strength as it does so naturally.
Angelic resistance - Most human-made weaponry does little to no damage to Daseike and he can regenerate from injuries incredibly quickly. This allows him to simply shrug off things like stab wounds. He's also immune to many types of toxin or illness.
Intellect - Having spent his entire life chasing things that supposedly don't exist and then finding them, he has a knack for patterns, puzzles and piecing together information.
Firearms - He just thinks they're fun, so has learned how to use several and has a bloody accurate shot.
Weaknesses
Conspicuous - No matter where he goes, he always stands out. It's not like he's putting much work into blending in, though.
Blunt - Human interaction was never going to be his strong point.
Morally Absent - Spending a limited time around humanity and their struggles, Daseike does not care for morality.
Careless - If it's not his research, it's replaceable.
Sensitive - He has a great many pet peeves and triggers, this can lead to him acting erratically.
Immature - Will absolutely ignore you over petty shit. |
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Darkseeker
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Rain drummed rhythmically against the windows as Kieran strode down the hall. Every few minutes, lightning flashed across the deep gray sky, illuminating the gloomy interior of the building. A peal of thunder shook the walls, and Kieran shivered involuntarily as a particularly vicious sheet of rain lashed against the tall windows. He entered the lounge to find it nearly empty, a fire raging in the marble hearth. In here, the velvet curtains were drawn taut across the windows, obscuring the weather outside from view. Skye was sprawled across the sofa closest to the fireplace, studying a sheaf of papers intently with a pen between her lips. She glanced up briefly as Kieran passed by. "Going to see the boss?" He sighed, leaning against the arm of the couch. "Unfortunately." Skye flipped her papers upside down as he drew closer. They worked for the same employer, but it was made quite clear that they were not to share the details of their assignments with anyone - even their fellow assassins. "Didn't you just get back?" "I did." His most recent job had been painfully uneventful; someone had put a hit out on a poor fisherman in a tiny coastal town a few hours away. It was easy enough to make it look like the man had drowned at sea, but where was the fun in that? "Better not keep him waiting." Skye had returned her attention to the papers before her, scribbling something in the margins with her pen. Kieran took that as his cue to leave and slipped out of the lounge quietly. The office sat down a short hallway leading out of the lounge. It looked fairly unassuming from afar, but Kieran had been inside enough times to know better. He rapped his knuckles gently against the thick wooden door before nudging it open with his shoulder. Massive bookcases lined the walls of the small office, piled high with stacks of paper and cardboard boxes. A huge desk of dark wood sat in the center of the room, accompanied by a plush leather chair, and a fake fireplace was installed in the far wall. It was dimly lit inside, the only light coming from a few lamps scattered across the room. Fields was seated behind the large desk, his hands clasped together before him. He was dressed in one of his usual suits; Kieran didn't think he'd ever seen him wear anything else. "Good morning," Kieran said hesitantly. There was an odd expression on Fields's face that made him uneasy. The other man sat up as he spoke, eyeing him for a moment before he slid open one of the desk's many drawers. "You just came back from Falkirk?" When Kieran nodded, he tapped a finger against his lips thoughtfully. Kieran almost thought that he was about to ask him how the job had gone, but that would be ridiculous; he had never done so before. Fields pulled something from the drawer and slid it across the desk to Kieran: a folder. The dossiers that contained their targets' information usually rested in regular manila folders, but this one was made of a sleek black material, a symbol Kieran didn't recognize stamped into the front. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't have picked someone fresh off a job, but I suppose it's not my decision." Kieran frowned. It was Fields's responsibility to choose which assassin was best suited to a particular job. He knew all of them the best; Kieran had no idea who would have chosen him for a job if not Fields. He reached for the folder, but Fields cleared his throat abruptly. "It was requested that you read through it in private." Kieran stared at him. "So you don't know what it says?" Fields just scowled at him. "Get to work." Kieran left the office in a daze, the folder clutched protectively to his chest. If the assignment hadn't come from Fields, then who had sent it? He poked his head briefly into the lounge, but Skye was still stretched out across one of the couches. He crept back into the hallway silently and headed for the dormitory wing. |
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Forum Moderator
Darkseeker
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Rain, rain and more rain. It cascaded down from the rooftops, splashed up from the road, leeching into everything in its path. The entire street was alive with the rush of water, nearby drains roaring torrents - the weather hadn't let up for days. Daseike kissed his teeth disapprovingly, shaking droplets off his umbrella from the precarious shelter of a doorway. Oh how he wished this foul weather had never been designed, surely the very lifeblood of the Earth could have been designed to be less... Annoying - He had designs, suggestions even, if only somebody had listened.
Turning his back to the downpour, he gave the umbrella one last shake in a futile attempt to dispel the last of the moisture and with that, he made his way inside. After scuffing his feet along the oddly pristine doormat, he stepped onto the sleek, marble floors of the building. He moved warily across the surface; it was incredibly slippery when wet and he'd already embarrassed himself once before. Further into the building his pace picked up, returning to his usual confident, busy stride. He had places to be, research to do, emails to answer, all things that wouldn't wait.
Finally, he reached his own office. With a quick turn of the key, he pushed the ornate wooden door open, slipping the key back into his pocket. Humming to himself, he shrugged his coat off, moving through the room in a practised routine. Coat over the back of his chair, umbrella hung up next to the door, briefcase onto the desk. He didn't even have to open his eyes, instead focusing on his little tune. With everything else in order, there was one more step in his routine: The window. With a pull of a cord, the blinds pulled back, revealing quite the view of the buildings and streets below, though incredibly dreary with the current weather. The angel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Standing in front of the window for a moment, he grumbled and lamented to himself, once again cursing the rain. With a click of his fingers, the lights came on, various designer lamps of various shapes and sizes dotting the room - he greatly preferred to work with natural light, but this would do.
There were no co-workers to interrupt him today, for most it was a day off, yet here Daseike was anyway. It was easiest to work on certain pieces when no one was around. Maps, documents and old books strewn out all over the floor, the angel was in the very centre. Keen eyes drifting over pages upon pages, looking for anything of meaning. Various pieces of paper had tape carefully attached to them with notes scribbled across - anything to keep track but to avoid damaging the integrity of the original document. "Tch... Missing page..." he murmured to himself, carefully turning the page only to be met with a disparity in the numbered pages. Daseike straightened up, stretching his hands and fingertips towards the arched ceiling before rubbing his hands over his face, massaging his forehead for a moment or two. Yet another dead end. Either this was a string of bad luck, or somebody was ahead of him and covering their tracks, he could only hope it was the former. With a wistful sigh, his gaze fell back upon the window, following the droplets that slid down the glass, merging into each other as they did so. Chewing on his lip thoughtfully, he looked back to the papers in front of him, then back to the window.
"...Ah, fuck it. Worth a shot.." he admitted, rubbing his forehead again.
Carefully stepping out of his maze of files, he picked up a couple of the pages, layering them on top of each other before holding them up to the light. The layers of text jumbled together, forming nothing but nonsense and black bars. He leaned back, squinting at the shapes. Dot, dash, dash... Moving the papers into just one hand, gently grasping the corner, he traced his finger along the condensed text. Was that... Morse code? His brow furrowed as he slowly sat back down, eyes narrowing.
Not taking his eyes off the page, he reached out blindly for a paper clip, gently patting along the floor to find the pile. Carefully, he secured the pages in place as to not disturb the order before finally putting the paper down. Daseike continued to stare at the pages, completely dumbstruck: This would change how he needed to look at everything. |
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Winter Month: 3 
Day 
Sleet
